


One Shots [Collection #1]

by omoshira



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/M, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omoshira/pseuds/omoshira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shots about: the Holidays.</p><p>A collection of one shots including Christmas-related scenarios. There is some sexual action going on in every chapter. The first one is about baking gingerbread houses, the second is about working at a hotel during the holidays, and the last is about receiving a sexy surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize so much for the typos. Most of these were read without glancing over.

Michael works diligently as I watch him from my seat on the kitchen counter top. I sit on my phone as he gathers his ingredients together. 

"You wanna pass that whisk to me?" he says.

I look away from my phone as I hear his question.

"I told you, I don't do cooking," I said to him.

He looks at me with a concerned expression.

"Take a joke," I said as I tossed it to him.

"Thanks," he replied.

While I would've normally kicked him out by now, my studio apartment was a little bare in the holiday cheer department. I had never been one to celebrate anything, especially the holidays. The only time I've ever celebrated anything was at the office with friends or when I would occasionally receive an invitation to get absolutely hammered at a bar with friends. When I told Michael I wouldn't be doing anything for Christmas he replied with genuine shock. Shock that I found to be humorous. So here we are now, in the cozy kitchen of Christmas-less apartment making gingerbread houses. Well /he/ is anyway.

"Okay, now I just have to preheat the oven to 375 degrees..." he said as he began to operate my oven's console.

"You better not set my place on fire or anything," I said as I directed my attention back to my phone.

"I promise I won't," he quickly responded, his tone serious.

I paused to look at him again.

"Relax, I was kidding," I said, "Why are you so uptight?"

"I'm sorry," he said. He turned away from me to get his ingredients ready.

I texted a friend of mine while Michael worked. After what felt like a few minutes I began to grow bored.

"Uh, I'm gonna go lie on the couch," I said as I started off of the counter, "Let me know if you need anything."

He nodded. I made my way to my living room area and plopped down onto my futon. I lied on my stomach and continued to text my friend and surf through social media. There was nothing particularly interesting. Hardly anything ever is. After a while, the conversation we had began to die off and I found myself just staring at my screen, waiting for anything --absolutely anything-- to happen. I looked at the time. It had been a good twenty minutes. 

"Hey Michael!" I shouted, "How are you holding up in there!"

"Everything's fine!" he shouted back.

I lied on my back and stared at my ceiling. The room was a little dark as the only light source in it came from the kitchenette. I was too lazy to get up and turn on a lamp. I felt my eyes begin to grow heavy.

"Michael, are you almost done!? I'm falling asleep!"

"Uh, it'll be a while! You can take a nap if you want!"

"Fine! But you better not steal any of my shit!"

I just lied there for a while. Eventually I turned over and clutched a pillow but I never actually fell asleep. I could hear the sounds of Michael cooking in the background. I wanted to ask him why he was there, why he had decided to spend a holiday with me. I'd known him for only a few months. I mean, the only reason why we even spoke was because I drunkenly gave him my number at a bar once. He performed a small set with his band. Whether or not they were good, I couldn't remember. All I did remember was him approaching me at the bar just as I was about to leave. Normally I wouldn't have even entertained the idea of speaking with a stranger at a bar, but he seemed cool and his hair was a wild color. It was red. Like, literally red. It looked like his head was on fire. But he was nice, and he offered to give me a ride back home. All of my friends had already left, and I really had nothing to lose so I took the offer. Now, I know, that kind of behavior is dangerous. Girls should never get into a car drunk with someone they don't know too well. But I'm a mess of mistakes and I was too drunk to care at the time. Needless to say, he was sweet, and he didn't take advantage of me so that was a plus. I guess I was lucky I didn't end up being taken home by some creepy douche bag. He was even kind enough to walk me all the way up to my third floor apartment. He told me he'd call me sometime and the rest is history. Plus, I thought he was kind of cute albeit a little stiff. 

I decided I would rather be up and moving rather than just lying down doing nothing. I rose from my futon and made my back into the kitchen. I took Michael by surprise.

"I thought you were sleeping," he says as he looks up from his work.

The gingerbread house was fully baked and constructed now. I caught him just in time to watch him place gumdrops onto it. 

"So that's what you were making," I said, leaning against the wall, "It smells nice."

"Thank you," he said, "I was just about to put the icing, you wanna help?"

"Sure," I said, walking over.

He handed me the pastry bag. In all honesty, I had absolutely zero experience when it came to baked goods. I awkwardly positioned the thing in my hands and directed to a small corner of the gingerbread roof.

"Be gentle," he said.

"I'll try." 

I push the tip of the pastry bag onto the corner. The force is too much and the corner breaks. I am mortified.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry," I say in a panic, "I am so sorry I am so sorry I am so sorry-"

"It's fine," he says, taking the pastry bag from my hands.

I hadn't notice it before, but his hands were gentle despite being calloused. I guess playing guitar does that to you. What I also notice was the warmth. Maybe it was from cooking, but his hands were undeniably warm.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

I had been staring at his hands in silence.

"O-oh, yeah. I'm great."

I watched as he skillfully iced designs onto the house. He iced a window and a door frame. He guided the pastry bag across the sides, designing wisps and small snowflakes. I had never taken him to be the culinary type, but as I stood there watching him work I was in awe. He got to the roof and made a wave design that cascaded from the top down to the bottom. He started frosting borders, making his way around before finally getting to the corner that I broke off. He looked at me suddenly and I find myself unprepared for the eye contact.

"Sorry again," I say.

"No, it's fine," he said, "You wanna try again?"

He offered me the bag again.

"I really don't think I should. What if I fuck it up again?"

"I'll help you, come here."

He took a step from the table and handed the bag to me. 

"Go on," he said as he gave me a slight push.

"Michael I really don't know if-" my speech ceases as I turn around.

He was directly behind me. His usual face of seriousness was replaced with a goofy smile. I didn't realize how close he was. I could feel his body heat behind me. I turn back around. My heartbeat began to increase in pace. I positioned the bag once again, this time over the cracked border of the gingerbread roof. My hands were shaking.

"Here," Michael said as he took my hands in his.

I felt heat flush down my cheeks and shoulders. The warmth of his hands did nothing to stop my trembling, which had now spread from my palms to my arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, gulping.

"You know," he said as he began to guide my hands, "Mistakes aren't always a bad thing."

I felt him take a step closer to me. The heat coming from him was more apparent now. I could feel my hands begin to moisten with sweat. My heart pounded in my chest.

"Sometimes the things that start out bad," he continued as he guided my hands to the border where the frosting ended, "Turn out to be just opportunities for fun."

I notice his voice drop an octave. His hands' grips on mine grows tighter.

"Squeeze," he said.

"What?" I said.

"The bag," he said with a laugh, "Squeeze it so the frosting comes out."

"Oh."

I do so, and his hands continue to guide me. He completes the border and just when I think he's about to let go, he begins to move our hands again. I watch as he paints a snowflake just above the jagged line where the corner used to be.

"Done," he says as he lets go and steps away.

I suddenly feel the absence of his warmth as I am left standing there. 

"So what now?" I say turning around.

He leans against the counter.

"Well, usually people like to break it apart and eat it," he says removing his apron, "But I kind of like to just stare at it."

"And why's that?" I start to slowly walk towards him.

"I don't know, sometimes when you see something beautiful you just don't want to stop looking at it."

I hand him the pastry bag back and he places it onto the corner. 

"So you really don't plan on doing anything today," he says.

I walk over to my sink and begin to wash my hands.

"Nope, why?" I said.

"No reason," he said as he hopped onto the counter.

I flicked my hands into the sink and wiped the remaining water onto my jeans before joining him on the counter. We both sat there, admiring the gingerbread house.

"I didn't know you could bake," I said to him, "It's really pretty."

"Thank you."

There was a beat of silence. I look at him. His eyes were still fixed onto the house.

"Michael?"

"Yeah?" he said, looking at me now.

"Why are you here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Christmas is in less than twenty-four hours, don't you have family or even friends to be with?"

He scoots closer to me. I can feel my cheeks flush again.

"Well, you're my friend, right?" he says with a grin.

He takes my hands in his and I stare at them. His hands were still warm.

"Yeah," I said.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "You've been acting weird."

I don't even say anything. I just look at him. He has a face of serious concern about him. I look at our hands, then his face, then our hands again. My heartbeat starts to race. 

"Was it something I sai-" he starts, but I cut him off abruptly.

I break our hands apart and grab him by the fabric of his band-tee. I grip his shirt tight and I pull him to me. Our lips collide. I feel him almost lose his balance from the counter, but he places a hand onto it to steady himself. I smile with our lips locked, even in moments like this he's still a dork. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me in. I can feel the heat of him against me. He responds by kissing back. It isn't long before I find myself being carried by him, my legs wrapped around his waist. He takes me back to my futon and I hop off of him. I break apart our kiss and he looks at me bewildered, his hair a mess; a mess caused by my fingers. His mouth begins to form a word but before he can vocalize it I push him onto the futon. I quickly follow him and our lips are together again. I feel his hand slip under my shirt. The warmth emanated from his fingertips and into my skin. 

"No," I say, pulling away from him, "My house, you go first."

He looks at me as if I've spoken in a foreign language.

"Clothes. Off," I demand as I get off of him.

"What about you?" he asks, sitting up.

"I suggest if you want some," I say, bringing my face close to his, "You do as I say."

He begins to strip and I open the futon's side compartment for a condom.

"You keep those there?" he says as he unbuckles his belt.

"Well yeah," I say, "If I'm gonna bring dudes home I at least have to be smart about it." 

He removes his pants and I'm on top of him again. I look down at him.

"/Now/ you can take it off," I say as I begin to pick at the wrapper.

In a matter of seconds he strips me of my shirt and bra. He begins to start at my pants.

"How many times have you done this?" I asked him.

He looks up at me, "Done what?"

"Been with a girl." He slips my pants off and I am left wearing nothing but panties.

"A few times," he slips the fabric off of me.

"No reason," I say as I begin to remove his underwear with my toes. 

He brings his hands to his waistband.

"No, let me. I like this part." 

He gets up to kick his underwear off. He turns his back to me as puts himself into the latex.

"Sweet ass," I say.

"Thanks."

He rejoins me and I position myself on top of him. The heat of his skin was apparent now without our clothes between us. My hands on his shoulders and his were on my hips. As we began, I brought myself down to him again and pressed our lips together. He was one of those dudes that made noise and I honestly didn't mind. After a while we swapped places. I wrapped my arms behind him as he bucked his hips against mine. I buried my face in his neck. My hands went into his hair and gripped. The noises he made before grew in volume and intensity. He began to kiss at my neck while at the time whispering profanities into my skin. 

"Are you close?" he asked me, suddenly stopping.

"Nope," I said, looking at him.

He removed himself from me and began to position his face just below my waist. 

"You're such a gentleman," I said as I buried my fingers in his hair.

He began to work with his tongue and within seconds I found myself making noise. I groped myself as he continued. My grip on his hair tightened and his intensity reciprocated that. I began to say profanities of my own. There were pangs of pleasure that washed over me and I cried out at every one. I started to bring my knees together and he would keep them apart with his hands. He starts to use a sucking motion and I find myself being overtaken by the sensations happening in me. I begin to raise my hips and he follows me. His mouth was hot, just like his hands. I feel my legs begin to shudder as I go over the edge. I cry out. My hips are practically in the air. My hips descend and I find panting with moist skin. He brings himself back up to me. He has a smug expression on his face. He begins to kiss at my neck and I wrap arms around him again. He whispers sweet nothings into my ear and I just lie there attempting to catch my breath. 

I put myself on top of him again and I begin to straddle him. My skin's damp now. I listen to him making blissful noises beneath him as I rock my hips. He begins to move his hips to match the timing of mine and before long we're both groaning. I place my hands on his shoulders. He starts to take over, his hips violently slapping upwards to meet mine. It isn't long before we're both shouting out profanities. I feel him begin to slow down in his thrusts. He slams our hips but lingers for a moment before slamming them together again. His hands hold my hips in place and I lower myself to groan into his neck. I can feel his heartbeat in his chest, and I am certain he can feel mine. After a few more thrusts, he pounds me with me one last hard one as he groans out. He's climaxed. I roll myself off of him and he scoots to accommodate me. 

"Hold on," I say as I reach for a latch that spreads the futon out.

"You couldn't have done that earlier?" he said, still panting.

"I didn't expect to be getting laid tonight," I said, scooting over to the free space. 

He removes the latex from himself and knots the opening shut. 

"Where should I put this?" he asks.

I giggle. He looked a bit silly holding his own used condom up.

"Just put it on the floor, I don't care."

He does so and he scoots to me. He begins to put his arms around me and I stop him.

"It's too hot for that right now," I said.

"Right, sorry," he said.

We both lied on our backs and stared at my ceiling. The room was still dimly lit but we didn't care. I start laughing.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing," I replied.

"No, really what."

"Do you really want to know?" I said, turning over to face him.

"I do," he says as he turns to face me.

"You got into my pants with a gingerbread house."

He begins to laugh, "I guess that's kind of funny."

I turn to stare at the ceiling. I feel his eyes still on me.

"What are you looking at?" I say, turning myself over again.

"You," he said.

"Why?"

"Sometimes, when you see something beautiful, you don't want to stop looking at it."

His face was serious again. I smiled and scooted close to him.

"You're a dork," I said, as I kissed him on the cheek.


	2. Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are working at a hotel over the holiday season.

The holiday season is always busy for all types of families. But it's even busier for people working in industries that serve those families.

"Here are your towels miss."

We might not always be appreciated,

"Here's your coffee, sir."

We might not always enjoy our jobs.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I'll get you the right dish. Sorry, again."

But that comes with the job description and we're required to work nonetheless. Plus the job has some perks too.

It was holiday season at the Chaud Hotel and needless to say it was the busiest time of year for all of us working here. There were families from all over the world flying in to spend the holiday season. One of the main reasons we had such a large amount of work needed of us was because of the fact that we were based next to some pretty sick tourist attractions. We had the annual Snowflake Ball festival a few miles north. We had the mountain hot springs just south of us. And we even had reviews as one of the best hotels all-around hotels. I mean, we had spas, saunas, luxurious suites, and even recreational areas for parents to drop off their children for a few hours. This place was basically paradise for the common tourist and while I am blessed to have such a well-paying job at such a well-received place I had other places I wanted to spend my Christmas in.

My phone rings as I carry a platter that is stacked with plates. 

"Oh shit," I say to myself.

I quickly make my way into the large kitchen where the cooks are frantically preparing dishes. I hear the sounds of the wait staff shouting at each other among the sounds of clanking tools and blazing fires.

"Here's another load," I said to the dish washing lady as I set the platter down.

She took a moment from her dish washing to give me a glare filled with bitterness. I shook it off and made my way to the back door and let myself out. It led to a small, dimly lit alleyway that was invisible to the rest of the hotel, except for the workers of course. This is where workers would go to take smoke breaks or even to just chat about the latest gossip happening between employees. I looked around. There was no one. Everyone must've been swamped with work. In a way I was glad to be assigned waiting duty. The hotel always over-staffs the waiting department because the restaurant area is always filled with people looking to dine. We were allowed to take five minute breaks here and then as long as we got our work done. 

I checked my phone. The call had since ceased. A "one missed call" message displayed across my screen. It was Michael.

"Crap," I said to myself as I called him back.

The atmosphere was cold. Night had already fallen and I could see my breath in front of me whenever I breathed out. I listened to the phone ring for the third time and I almost hung up until he answered. 

"Hi there," he said.

I was practically warmed by just the sound of his voice.

"Hi," I said back, "Sorry I couldn't pick up right away, I was busy working."

"I know that feeling," he said.

"Yeah," I smiled.

I decided to sit on the step in front of the door. If someone where to swing that door open they would no doubt hit me with it, but I didn't care.

"So how is the tour going?" I asked him as I attempted to hug myself for warmth.

"It's going fine, the last leg is just in a few weeks," he said, "Have you been keeping track of our tour dates?"

"No," I said, "You know I'm not interested in stuff like that."

I heard him giggle, "Yeah. Well, what are you doing for Christmas? It's in just a few hours, right?"

I sighed, "Working. They've got us working until the end of the week. No Christmas for me, I guess."

"Oh," I heard him say, "That sucks."

"Yeah, it does," I breathed, "I wish I could see you."

"Me too," he said.

The last time I saw him was months ago. We had a tearful goodbye at the airport. I felt tears began to well in my eyes but I brushed them away with my sleeve. 

"I have to go," I said, "They're probably looking for me in there."

"Alright," he said, "I love you."

"I love you too," I said, trying not to sound choked up.

We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I made my way back inside and relished in the invention of indoor heating. I got back into the kitchen and saw that the chaos of it all continued without me. 

"Hey, you," I heard a voice say. 

I turned to the source of the voice. It was a pudgy man dressed in a business suit.

"Me?" I asked.

"Yeah, the boss needs you in his office," he said to me.

"Alright," I said.

I made my way out of the kitchen, and out into the main lobby area. The place was absolutely swarming with tourists and hotel staff. I headed for the General Management Office anxiously. There were only two reasons you would be called in: to be promoted or to be fired. I hoped it wasn't the latter. I walked into the hall that led to the Office. The walls were noise cancelling so I wasn't able to hear the commotion happening just outside. I walked down the hallway, the only audible sound being my footsteps and my fearful heartbeat. Once at the Office door, I knocked. A girl dressed in a wait staff uniform opened it for me and led me in. The Office was huge. It looked like one of our larger suites. A group of women, also dressed in wait staff, gathered at a desk at the far end of the room. The girl that welcomed me led me to them.

"Hi," I said, as I walked up.

They made room for me, as they spread out I saw the General Manager sitting at his desk. His suit was prim and proper. It was very rare for us to ever see him inside the hotel. He would usually remain in his office. There were rumors of him being exceptionally well dressed and handsome. I could see the rumors were true.

"Alright, so with you that makes eight..." he said, looking at all of us with a calculating gaze.

We all stood silently. I could tell I wasn't the only one in the room anxious. 

"Let's get down to business," the Manager said, leaning back in his chair, "A very special guest has rented our most expensive VIP suite."

I gulped.

He continued, "Now, I don't know anything about this guy, heck I don't even know if it's a man! But here's the deal ladies, this man is paying well over a few grand to stay here for a weeks. I want you girls to prepare that suite. Make it the most luxurious and glamorous it has ever been."

We all breathed a sigh of relief. After the brief conversation we were all escorted out by staff security. We were then led up to the executive suite via elevator. Some girls were talking in excitement over seeing the room for the first time, others were annoyed at having to do more work. I, on the other hand, wondered aimlessly at person booking such a room. And especially for a few weeks? Once the elevator doors opened we were shown to a glamorously decorated hallway. The very floor of this hallway was decorated with shimmery gold accents. I heard a few girls squeal behind me. The executive suite was a place regular staff were never allowed to visit without authorization. I guess we considered authorized.

Once the double doors to the suite were opened, the squealing behind grew absolutely unbearable. Very few were ever allowed up here and even then it was only for a brief moment to tend to the customer. The room looked like it could be a lobby of it's own. At the far end of the suite was a wall made completely out of glass that allowed you to view the skyline. Of course, it was night, but from up here, even light pollution couldn't touch you. You could see the stars clearly.

"Get to work ladies," one of the security staff said.

At a table were cleaning supplies laid out for us. We began work immediately. Some of us were sent back down with the sheets to the California king bed. Those were to be washed. A few of us were sent into the luxury bathroom to wipe and scrub every inch of it down. The remaining few of us were meant to tidy up the general room: vacuum, dust, things of that nature. Three of us, including me, were assigned to clean the plexiglass windows. I was taken by the view of the city. There seemed to be a million tiny dots of light just below me. It made me think of all the chaos happening in the streets below. But it also made me think of how such things can look so beautiful this up high.

After what felt like hours, we had decided the room was finally clean enough and were escorted back down. I checked my watch, it would be thirty minutes until it was officially Christmas. We were escorted back to the General Manager's office where he gave us a pep talk on catering to this mysterious customer. Afterwards, we were sent back to our wait staff positions. Before I began work again, I snuck back to the alley and checked my phone. There were no messages or calls from Michael. I sighed and went back to work gathering dishes.

I continued working until suddenly there was a commotion in the main lobby. It wasn't just a regular commotion, no, this disturbance seemed to be focused and organized at one set point: the hotel entrance. I couldn't fully see what was happening, but I could see a crowd forming. I could see flashes of cameras and then I could see security staff rushing in. Looks like our mystery guest finally arrived. I continued my work. It wasn't until I was called by that pudgy, business-suit man that I began to think anything of it. I was called back into the General Manager's office and when I arrived, the other girls were missing.

"You wanted to see me? Sir?" I said as I stood in front of his desk.

"Our guest has asked for you," he said, looking up at me.

"For me? Why?" I asked.

"Does it matter? This dude is paying us bank! Go up there and see what he wants."

"Yes, sir," I said, and I was escorted by security again.

The elevator was empty except for a security guard and I. When the elevator stopped at the top floor he stayed behind.

"You aren't coming with me?" I asked him.

"No, boss doesn't like sending security up here. He says it makes the guests antsy."

"Oh," I said.

"If you feel unsafe, there's a red button underneath the suite's phone. Press that and we'll come running," he said to me with a smile.

"Alright. I will. Thank you."

The elevator closed and I was left alone in that golden hall. The sounds of my footsteps didn't do anything to calm my nerves. Who exactly was this guy? And what did he want with me? How did he even know who I was? 

I decided to cease the questions because they were doing nothing but contributing to my anxiety. I was here to do my job as the hotel staff and that was it. Besides, if this creep decided to pull anything on me I knew what to do.

I finally made it to the door, and with a deep breath, I knocked.

"Coming!" I heard a voice say from inside.

My blood ran cold. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

"Who is it!?" I heard the voice call out again.

The tears began to form. I knew exactly who it was.

"Hello-"

I cut him off by hugging him as soon as the door opened.

"You asshole," I said looking up at him, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Michael said, holding me close with his arms.

I buried my face in his chest. I was embarrassed. My tears began to dampen his shirt.

"Are you crying?" he asked, "Did I make you upset?"

"No," I replied, looking back up at him, "I'm just really God damn happy to see you."

He led me inside and we both sat down on the mattress.

"I thought you were still on tour," I told him, wiping tears away with my sleeve.

He pulls me in close to him. "No, our next gig isn't for a few weeks," he kisses my forehead and I rest my head against him, "And in the meantime, I've decided to spent those weeks with you."

"Here?" I said to him.

"Well yeah," he said, "I wanted to be with you."

His face lit up with that silly smile of his.

"But what'll you do around here? I mean, I'm working practically every day."

"I won't ever have to leave," he said as he tapped my nose with his finger, "Because I'll just call room service."

"Won't you get bored up here?" I asked.

"Probably," he said, "But on those days where you /aren't/ working I'd like to take you out."

I pulled myself away from him.

"Oh, Michael, you can't do that," I looked at him, "The world doesn't even know about us yet, what if they find out?"

He scooted close and pulled me in again, "I don't care," he whispered.

Before I could protest our lips were together and he was on top of me. His hands firmly slid down my sides and to my back as he untied my wait staff apron. I eagerly tugged at his shirt and he happily complied, helping me strip it off him. I flipped us over and got myself on top. He pulled the apron off of me with full force and tossed it aside. His hands were warm and he lifted my work shirt off. I guided his hands to my chest as I unhooked my bra. 

"You're so beautiful," he said.

He rolled us over and I lied on my back again. I quickly started at his pants, unbuckling his belt. He got down to kiss me again. I felt the full warmth of his skin against mine. His mouth was hot and his fingers were tangled in the strands of my hair. After succeeding in stripping him of his pants and undergarments he went to work on me. He kissed a trail from my neck and down my body. I watched as he unbuttoned my work pants and stripped them off of me. 

"Cute undies," he said, "They've even got a cute little bow on them."

I giggled, covering my face with my hands. 

"I wanted to get into the Christmas spirit," I said with my face covered from the embarrassment.

"Is this my present?" he said, his voice lowering an octave.

Before I could respond, I felt one of his hands spreading my legs out and the other pulling at the fabric. He placed his lips on me, kissing me through the fabric. I let out a sigh. 

"You're so wet already," he told me, "You've been thinking about this haven't you?"

"Yes," I breathed. I kept my face covered, I was too embarrassed to see him look at me.

"I've been thinking about you too," he said.

I felt him start to lift my underwear up, exposing me. 

"It's been a while since I've seen you like this," he continued.

I felt him kiss me as he lifted my panties off. I let out a a shaky breath as I tried to steady my breathing.

"Seen me like what?" I asked, attempting to hide the lust in my voice.

"So eager," he said as he began to work with his tongue.

His warm hands spread both of my legs out, holding them in place.

"You know, on the bus I think about you," he said as I let out a succession of subdued whimpers, "And all those cute little noises you make."

He continued to use his tongue, firmly moving it from one side to the other. I put my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from yelping. With the other I gripped his dyed hair in a tight grasp. He began using his lips in succession with his tongue and my hips began to rise. 

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this," he said as he gingerly inserted one of his warm fingers in me.

My legs began to close, but he firmly kept them in place with his free hand. 

"Oh my God," I breathe out.

At this point my breathing has fallen out of my control. I can feel my skin grow wetter, and I can feel my heart begin to pound more fiercely. He continues to lick, and kiss, and prod, and I continue to let out blissful noise. I feel the buildup within me slowly approaching the pinnacle. I look down to see him focused on his work. Nothing else seems to be on his mind. He catches a glimpse of staring at him and he grins. He begins to use a sucking motion and I am caught by surprise. I grip his hair tighter and let out full-voiced moans now. He inserts a second finger and I find myself groaning out.

I can tell I'm close to climax but he shows no signs of stopping. My hips began to rise again. His mouth followed me, his hands holding my legs firmly in place. 

"Michael, I'm going to..."

My words are ignored as his motions increase in intensity. I find myself fully shouting out now, my back arching and my head in the bed's pillows. The feeling of his tongue and mouth moving in unison sent pangs of pleasure. I felt my legs begin to shudder. I felt the buildup go over the edge and I use both of my hands to grope myself. His motions began to slow. His licks slowed and his fingers followed. He kisses me with his lips and I let out more sighs. When he is done I am left panting. I feel his lips on my thighs as he gently hums.

"You've never moved like that before," he says. 

He moves up to join me and he starts to kiss at my neck.

"The condoms were in my pocket," he whispers.

"I'll get them," I tell him as I rise.

I walk over to the spot on the ground where his pants lied strewn. I bent over to pick through his pockets and I hear him whistle behind me. I finally find the pack and I fish them out, tearing a single one off. I toss the rest aside and crawl back into bed with him. He goes under the covers and I follow. We kiss, and I let him position himself on top of me. I hand him the condom and he grinds against me. His skin was incredibly warm. He felt like a furnace and my hands travel down his back to squeeze his ass. He starts to mouth at my neck and I start to go wild. I roll us over and I straddle him. He's looking at me with that huge smile again.

"Your turn," I whispered as I started to maneuver myself down toward his legs.

"You really don't have to do tha-" he says.

He's cut off when he feels my tongue make contact with his tip. He starts to push at the covers.

"Move them, I want to see you," he says as he helps me lift them off.

I place my tongue back on the head and I hear him breathe out a huff of air. I can feel his eyes on me and I look up to reciprocate his eye contact. He's staring at me with his mouth open. I see his chest rise and fall with every breath. He says something to me but I'm too caught up in the moment to comprehend his words. I begin to form my lips around him and I feel his erection beginning to take form in my mouth.

"How are you doing that?..." he breathes as I grip the base of him with my hand.

I can feel him grow erect and I begin to invite him into the hollows of my mouth. My mouth is hot from the heat emanating from him, and I invite him openly. He begins to breathe out profanities and that only fuels my desire to continue. I began to move, using my tongue to allow him to slickly slide in. Then out. Then back in again. I placed my free hand on his thigh. I could hear him groaning. His hips began to move to meat with my sucking motions. 

"Oh my God..." he breathes as he starts to buck his hips up gently.

The force of hips did all the work for me now. I allowed to delve as deep as I could take him without gagging. He began to moisten with the pre-ejactulate that was leaking. I worked my tongue around the shaft and rubbed the head firmly with my tongue when I could. His leg muscles began to tense up and I relished in the moment. Eventually, I released him from my lips and began to stroke him with my hands. I could see now that he was fully heated and I decided to bring my lips to appreciate the bottom part of him, his balls. The skin here was hotter than the rest of him and I sucked as I stroked him with my hand.

"S-Stop please..." he told me, "I'm too close."

I complied. Something about him begging gave me a sense of dominance. I gave him a tender kiss before crawling back up to meet him. He had already removed the latex from its wrapper and he was now fitting himself into it. I kissed his neck gingerly as he did so. I could feel his breathing quicken in pace. Within seconds he was on top of me again. I was still tender and soaked from his mouth earlier. And now he himself was bothered from mine. He hovered above me, his visage was lustful.

We started, and at first it was slow and gentle. I felt the buildup rise in me again. The force in his thrusts gradually increased in pace and force and I found myself groaning out. With every movement I heard him give out a huff and groan. It wasn't long until he was going at full force. I felt myself accommodate him as he plunged into me. I felt the solid heat of him move forcefully into me. The sounds of his skin pounding against mine were almost loud enough to drown out the noise we ourselves were making. He began to slur his profanities and I dug my fingers into his back. I looked up at him to see his hair growing wet with sweat.His eyes were closed and the way he was rocking us matched with the pleasured expression on his face. I felt the pressure in me begin to approach the edge and from the growing stiffness he was beginning to shove in me I could feel he was close to the edge too. My hands moved from his back to his shoulders and I gripped. He brought his lips to me. His groans continued even as our lips were locked.

"I'm so close..." he breathed into my mouth.

"Me too," I sighed.

I passed over the edge first as all of my muscles tensed up. I felt the muscles within me clutch his heat in a hot grip. He must've felt that, because as soon as I went under so did he. The strength in his movement dissipated rapidly. He plunged into me powerfully for the last time, letting out a primal, full-voiced moan and I felt the warmth of his orgasm through the latex. 

He rolled off of me slowly and we both lied there --on our backs-- out of breath. 

"Well shit," he said to himself as he removed a sweaty lock of hair from his face.

I scooted close to him and he put his arm around me.

"I still have to go back down there, you know," I said to him, panting.

He started laughing.

"You better get yourself fixed up then," his gazed met mine and he grinned, "They're gonna know what I did to you up here if you don't."

I started to rise, but his arm stops me.

"Wait, just stay with me for a little while longer," he continued, inviting me back down.

I obliged and as I lied next to him I realized how much I truly missed him. Usually the afterglow was followed by spooning and then eventually sleep, but this time around I wanted to be awake; I wanted to look at him for as long as I could. I kissed his cheek and then I noticed the stars glimmering behind him through the glass walls.

"Look," I said, pointing to it.

"What?" he said, turning around.

His eyes locked on the stars and he didn't need me to respond. 

"They're beautiful," he whispered as he looked back at me, "But you look better."

"Oh shut up," I teased as I cuddled up to him.

I started to nuzzle at his neck and his hand hand grazed over the small of my back.

"Merry Christmas," I whispered to him.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered back.


	3. Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprises! Everywhere!

The fire blazed as Michael & I reclined on the couch. We admired the fire not because it was a fire, but because we somehow managed to get a video of a fire to stream on our LCD TV. The fire didn't provide any warmth but it sure gave the house a more Christmas feel. The house had already been decorated. The tree was up and the roof was adorned with a fat Santa outlined by Christmas lights. Even as we cuddled, I could sense something was off. Michael wasn't as responsive tonight. He was a little distant, and a little stiff.

"What's the matter?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he said. Then he looked at me with a reassuring gaze, "Nothing, I swear."

"You're lying to me, and I know it," I said, releasing myself from his grasp and getting up on my knees. I looked down at him from my elevated position, "Usually you'd be trying to charm me out of my clothes."

He looked at me with a small grin.

"What? You don't think I'm cute anymore?" I said, turning away from him to playfully pout.

"No, it's not that," he says, and then his arms came around me.

"Then what is it?" I take his hands in mine.

"It's just-" he says as he pulls me back into him, "This Christmas is just /different/."

"Different?" I look at him.

"Yeah," he says, "I've been on tour during the holidays for so many years. This year is my first one at home, really."

"Oh," I say, staring at our intertwined hands, "You miss them don't you."

"Yeah, of course," he props me up and makes his way to other side of me, facing me now, "But I don't want you to think that I'd rather be out there than here with you."

His hand moves a loose lock of my hair and he lean in to kiss me.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you more," he says.

"You're a dor-" before I can finish he interrupts me by pressing our lips together.

He pulls in with his arms and I feel myself fall back onto the couch cushions. He kisses me fiercely and I feel his firm, warm hands slide under the fabric of my shirt. His lips move down to my neck and I let out a breath. He begins to bite gently at my skin and I bring my hips up to meet his. He grinds against me and I feel his hands gingerly move up my waist to my chest. His warm hands cup me and I groan out as he continues to bite gently. My hands move to tug up his shirt and he complies, assisting me in stripping it off him. In return he strips me of /my/ shirt and we're back to grinding against each other, skin touching skin. 

"Christmas is in a few hours," I breathed into his neck.

"Yeah, but who cares," he moans into mine, "I've got my present right here."

Then I remember. Presents. Shit.

I sit up suddenly, taking Michael by surprise. I turn toward the TV and click the remote, displaying the time. His surprise would be here in less than 10 minutes. 

"Shit, Michael we can't do this right now," I said, as I started searching for my shirt.

"What do you mean? You got me all hot and bothered," he says as he pulls me in again. He kisses me again and the warmth of his skin and mouth almost overtakes me.

"Not now," I said pulling away, "I promise I'll make it up to you."

He starts to mouth at my neck and I let out an aroused sigh.

"We really can't, Michael please," I say. He pulls away.

"Why? What's happening?" he looks at me, "Are you on your-"

"Oh! No. No no it's not that," I say, cutting him off, "I just have something planned for you and I think it would be more special if we waited. Just for a little bit."

His look of concern turns into a smug grin. 

"Something planned..." he repeated to himself. "Alright," he says as he kisses me on the cheek, "I have a surprise for you too."

"Do you?" I ask in genuine surprise.

"Yeah," he says as he pulls his shirt back on, "But you'll have to wait for it."

My curiosity was nagging at me, but I finally found an opportunity to buy some time.

"Alright," I say as I kiss his face in return. "Oh, there's one more thing," I said as I pulled my shirt over my head.

"What is it?"

"There's a present upstairs for you."

"Oh, really?" he says, rising, "You're just full of surprises tonight, aren't you?"

"I guess you could say that," I turned the television off, "I hid it somewhere, I want you to find it."

"First you wanna get me all hot and bothered like this," he takes my hand and he places it on his thigh, "...and now you want me to look for it?" He begins to lean toward me with a lustful gaze in his eye.

"Yes, now go look for it before I change my mind," I say as I release myself from him and rise from my seat.

"Fine," he says as he reluctantly rises, "But you're /really/ gonna get it tonight. I hope you know that."

"Stop being lewd," I say, smiling, "Now go look."

Without another word he leaves and I hear his footsteps ascend our staircase. I check the time on the wall clock. They would be arriving any minute now. I shut the all the downstairs lights off and headed toward the front door.

"Could you at least give me a hint as to where it is!?" I hear him shout.

"Nope!" I shout back.

Just then, I hear a subtle knock on the door. It was subtle enough to make me question whether I heard a knock in the first place. I smiled. The surprise was here.

"You guys need to be super quiet," I whispered as I unlocked the door and allowed them in.

"We promise," Ashton said in full voice as he walked in with Calum and Luke.

The three of us shushed him. 

"Sorry," he whispered.

I guided them to a small corner by the staircase and handed them packets of confetti.

"I'll call him down, now," I said as I stood at the foot of the stairs. 

Michael had shut off the upstairs lights as well, but I had my finger on the light switch ready.

"Mikey! Did you find it!?" I called out.

"Nope! I gave up!"

I sighed.

"But I've got /your/ surprise ready!" he shouts down to my confusion, "Are you ready to see it!?"

I hear the whispers of the other boys in the corner.

"Sure! Come down!" I shout back.

I hear footsteps begin to descend the staircase in the darkness. The footsteps seemed lighter, almost as if bare feet were making contact with the wood. Had he removed his shoes? The footsteps grew in volume and I could tell he was close to the last flight. I heard a jingling sound with every step. Bells, maybe? I began to have a sense of concern as I heard the steps just above the final flight. 

"You turned the lights off?" I heard him say.

I gulped, "Yeah."

I heard the boys whisper again. My finger froze under the light switch. What on earth could his surprise be? I felt my pulse quicken. 

"Well turn them on," he said as he started to descend again. 

I drew in a breath and flicked the switch up, illuminating the hall. I prepared to yell surprise but my breath stops short. The boys jump out from the corner and join at the foot of the stairs, throwing confetti everywhere. They begin to yell "Merry Christmas!" but are stopped short as well. The entire moment feels as if it's in slow motion. I watch as Michael's face turns into an expression that can be describes as nothing but mortified. 

"Oh my god," I say as I drop my packet of confetti.

On the stairs, there was Michael wearing a Santa hat. The Santa hat had been decorated with bells on the tip and along the rim. He was wearing this ridiculous hat with pride. And nothing else.

"Holy shit," I heard a whisper say behind me.

There was a pause of silence. No one knew quite how to react to any of this. We all stood frozen in our places, speechless. I shut the lights off but not before an eruption of laughter occurs behind me. I hear the steps of Michael frantically running back up the stairs. I hear a thud. And I knew then he must've tripped over a step as he panicked. I sat on one of the steps. Calum flicked the lights back on for me and they were all still laughing. Eventually I joined in, because while I was experiencing a hefty amount of secondhand embarrassment I couldn't deny that it was hilarious.

"Is it a bad time?" Luke said amid his laughter, "I mean, we can stop by another time."

"No no, it's fine," I say, attempting to regain my composure.

"Go into the kitchen, we'll meet you there," I said to them as I began to ascend.

I heard the chorus of laughter make it's way out of the room. Once I was on the second floor I headed for our bedroom. The lights were already on inside and I was met with the sight of a figure curled up under our bed's comforter.

"Are you alright?" I said, fighting back a giggle.

"I don't know," he replied back from under the fabric.

I made my way to him and sat on the mattress. His head poked out from the comforter and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him in that ridiculous hat.

"Jingle bells?" I said to him, giggling.

"Yeah," he replied, his look of embarrassment still apparent.

I let out a sigh and rose from the bed. I knelt down in front of the nightstand next to the bed and reached under for a small wrapped box. I handed it to him.

"What is it?" he said, sitting up.

"A Rolex," I said to him, "Although, if I had known you were going to do /this/ I would've gotten you something else." 

I saw his cheeks flush. I kissed them.

"Get dressed. Your friends are waiting for us downstairs," I said.

I saw him pull the covers back over himself.

"Now, don't be like that," I said as I pulled the comforter from his face, "Don't worry about them."

I kissed his lips then promptly made my way back to the door, "I'll make sure to be extra naughty to make up for it."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave constructive criticism! Thank you!


End file.
